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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725080">From Father to Son</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangryuniverse/pseuds/theangryuniverse'>theangryuniverse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ficlet, Gen, Olympics, Teenage Victor Nikiforov, YOI teaser</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:22:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>920</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725080</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangryuniverse/pseuds/theangryuniverse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It is entirely impossible to compel people to, well, anything.</p><p>It is not what Yakov thinks, of course, as Victor has seen him make people do many things they didn’t want to. Such as getting up at five in the morning. Or following a strict diet. Or not playing on the phone while on the ice. Or not watching horror movies with a P-18 rating. Or practising the same jump over and over and over again until their legs didn’t want to function anymore.</p><p>In the beginning, it has all felt like force.<br/>But Yakov does not make his support, his love, dependent on them.<br/>Not once.</p><p>Not even when he loses.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>From Father to Son</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Y'ALL DID YOU SEE THE TEASER<br/>I thought Victor looked rather... sad. Almost as if he had given in to resignation.<br/>So here it is.<br/>My little ficlet about this mini teaser they blessed us with.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is entirely impossible to compel people to, well, anything.</p><p>It is not what Yakov thinks, of course, as Victor has seen him make people do many things they didn’t want to. Such as getting up at five in the morning. Or following a strict diet. Or not playing on the phone while on the ice. Or not watching horror movies with a P-18 rating. Or practising the same jump over and over and over again until their legs didn’t want to function anymore.</p><p>It <em>might</em> be possible that Victor has been part of all of these things.</p><p>By now, it all has become second nature to him. He gets up at five in the morning because he needs to get ready for school, and he follows a strict diet because of his sport. He does not play on his phone while on the ice because he easily forgets that he is wearing shoes with actual knives attached to them and that not paying attention could end badly. He does not watch horror movies he is too young for because he only did it once and then could not sleep for a week. He practises the jumps until his legs scream, because that is the only way you ever get to the top.</p><p>In the beginning, it has all felt like force.</p><p>But Yakov does not make his support, his love, dependent on them.</p><p>Not once.</p><p>Not even when he loses.</p><p>However, with a coach like Yakov Feltsman, one does not really consider the option of actually losing. Especially not when you are his personal protégé, not when you receive extra lessons from him because he believes in you, not when the relationship between coach and student is as strong as theirs.</p><p>Not when there is Yakov’s hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze, the only gesture of sympathy he can show while all cameras are facing them. But Victor understands him anyway.</p><p>The hug will come later, when the cameras are gone.</p><p>“Maybe next time,” Yakov says, but Victor knows his coach is not believing his own words.</p><p>Victor looks at him for a moment before his gaze returns to the ice where a skater from France is currently showing off his skills. The step sequence does not match the music properly, Victor thinks.</p><p>“We know very well there won’t be a next time,” he says then, causing Yakov to turn towards him fully.</p><p>“What do you mean, there won’t be a next time?” He asks, and his frown becomes even deeper. “Are you thinking of retiring? Vitya, you are seventeen—”</p><p>“I mean that they won’t come the next time either,” Victor says calmly, not taking his eyes off the French skater. “They were invited, and yet, they chose not to come. You cannot compel them, I guess. And I am tired of trying.”</p><p>For a moment, Yakov seems at a loss for words. Victor does not look at him, eyes still fixed on the ice, but he feels Yakov staring at him, staring with what must probably be an expression of outrage and confusion mixed with a hint of sadness and resignation.</p><p>In the end, that is all that there is, after all. Resignation.</p><p>It has never helped anyone to be sad about things that can’t be changed.</p><p>Yakov lets out a heavy sigh and puts both hands on the bannister for support.</p><p>The commentators call out the name of the French skater and praise him, but neither Victor nor Yakov are actually listening. The other skater isn’t really a threat. Not with such a bad step sequence.</p><p>“Vitya,” Yakov begins, “all I want is that you know that none of this is your—”</p><p>“I know it’s not my fault,” Victor says and gives his coach a small smile. “And I really don’t care that they are not here today. No answer is enough of an answer for me. And besides, my actual parents are already here.”</p><p>He moves away from the bannister and puts his arms around Yakov, probably ruining his make up in the process, but he couldn’t care less. He is pretty enough without it.</p><p>“The people I want spend Christmas with,” Victor murmurs into Yakov’s neck, “those are my real family.”</p><p>He pulls away and looks Yakov in the eye, and for the first time in his life, he believes he can see tears in the eyes of his usually so grumpy and angry coach.</p><p>“I don’t need my parents here. You and Lilia,” Victor says, “have been the best parents to me that I could have possibly wished for. I hope you know that.”</p><p>Yakov looks at him with a strangely pained expression on his face, one that usually appears seconds before he is about to yell someone down – usually, that person is Victor. But Yakov does not yell.</p><p>“And next, representing Russia: Victor Nikiforov.”</p><p>The people begin to cheer, and Yakov sniffs. “Get on the ice, boy!” He barks and shoves Victor towards the ice, and Victor briefly smiles to himself as he skates out to the cheers and applause of the people that have come to see him<em>, only him</em>, the rising star of Russia.</p><p><em>I don’t need them</em>, Victor thinks as he raises his arms and skates to the centre, <em>I do not need any of them.</em></p><p>He stomps onto the ice, as if to announce his arrival, and bows his head.</p><p>
  <em>The ones that I need are right here.</em>
</p><p>The hall falls quiet, and the music begins.  </p>
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